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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885245">Human Indulgence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryoneHasAmnesia/pseuds/EveryoneHasAmnesia'>EveryoneHasAmnesia</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoooooo/pseuds/ohnoooooo'>ohnoooooo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ineffable Humans [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, Disordered Eating, M/M, he doesn't mean it, money is terrible, slight weight shaming, the boys are having a hard time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:22:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryoneHasAmnesia/pseuds/EveryoneHasAmnesia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoooooo/pseuds/ohnoooooo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley and Aziraphale are adjusting to being human. Crowley has a hard time of things and Aziraphale worries.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ineffable Humans [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Human Indulgence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*nervous wave* Sorry for leaving this so long. For anyone who wants to read it...enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There are some parts of being human Crowley seems to love. He loves bad telly, reality TV in particular. He loves long walks in markets with his hand folded into Aziraphale’s, and he’s slowly filled the flat above the bookshop with all the plants he had at his old flat (it turns out the plants never thrived on Crowley’s demonic powers - simply his sheer force of will). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But there are things about being human Crowley seems to loathe with such a ferocity that sometimes it frightens Aziraphale. He hates doing laundry - and what’s more he hates buying clothes in general. Aziraphale had been shocked to learn that Crowley never shopped for clothes, instead simply miracling anything he needed as he needed it. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Aziraphale rather enjoyed shopping for Crowley, but Crowley had sulked through the whole affair. Just as Aziraphale was holding up yet another coat - for </span>
  <em>
    <span>in-between weather, </span>
  </em>
  <span>dear - he had become frustrated and growled. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop spending money, angel. We need to make more money before we can go and spend it!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Money. That’s something they both hate. Aziraphale hates needing it. He hates selling his previous books for it. He hates the way everything in human life seemed dependent on it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley isn’t the only one experiencing growing pains. One day the former demon walked into their shared bedroom to find Aziraphale blushing as he desperately tried to button up a waistcoat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything...always sort of fit? Before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’ve put on weight, that’s all.” Crowley had kissed his ear and patted the side of his belly. “We’ll get some of you things let out.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have not!” Aziraphale fumed, turning back and forth in front of the mirror, his cheeks colouring. “Well…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had things let out and the problem was clearly solved forever, Aziraphale said cheerfully to Crowley as he indulged in an ice cream on the way home from the tailor’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If only Crowley didn’t hate eating. And sleeping at normal times. And being beholden to any part of his body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few months Aziraphale notices that Crowley has actually lost enough weight for it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>concerning </span>
  </em>
  <span>and takes him to a doctor. The doctor makes some noise and takes some blood and that night Aziraphale cooks furiously for Crowley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Angel, I’m FINE.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why won’t you just do this for me?!” Aziraphale slams the wooden spoon down on the counter. He’s swallowed his comments for weeks, trying to be the sweet, supportive presence that Crowley nearly needs, but now he finds himself at the end of his rope. Crowley seems even more haunted than before, like he’s taking some pleasure in flouting the doctor’s recommendations and rejecting Aziraphale’s care. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you don’t give a - a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> - what happens to you, I still do! Why won’t you EAT?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you tell me why you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>eating, Aziraphale?” Crowley snaps. “Maybe I want to feel a little bit of control over something.” He gestures at his form, longer and skinnier than ever. “I hate this. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> this fucking thing. I hate these bodies! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Being. HUMAN.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes a plate off the table and it breaks, the carefully made stew Aziraphale cooked leaking over their kitchen floor. His eyes well up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale can see that he’s hurting. He can see that Crowley’s actually close to crying, and there’s a savager, hot, wild spark in him that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>glad </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Crowley is as upset as he is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he says. “No this is my fault. My idea, begging for your redemption. I Fell for you, at least part way, but you never asked me to. So go on. Do whatever you want. I’m going upstairs.” He turns, grabs the box of chocolates off the top of the fridge, and makes for the stairs. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s several minutes before Crowley feels like he can move again. He takes some deep breaths, and then bends down to quietly clean the stew off the floor. AS he’s throwing away pieces of broken plate he cuts himself and swears, because now he has to find a sodding plaster because of his stupid human </span>
  <em>
    <span>skin</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He goes to their bathroom where they keep the first aid, and as he’s wrapping his finger he catches sight of himself in the mirror.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And he finally sees what Aziraphale’s been seeing. His drawn face. His shaking hands. His pale skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gets another plate and eats some of the stew that Aziraphale made, and then goes upstairs and sits on the edge of the bed. He reaches over and takes one if the chocolates out of the box in Aziraphale’s lap. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I’ll be better. I’ll eat more.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I trap you here? Do you wish I’d never…” Aziraphale’s eyes are read and puffy but his voice is steady, not accusing. There’s a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Crowley reaches up and wipes at the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth with his thumb. “You didn’t trap me here. I love you, angel. More than anything. I’m glad I’m here with you.” He climbs onto the bed next to him and pulls him close. Aziraphale feels like home. Solid. Safe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale throws his arms around Crowley with a whimper. “I’m sorry,” he says, holding the thin man close. “I’m sorry. I was a—a bastard to you and I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was a bastard too, a total fucking bastard. And an idiot. Not eating. It was stupid. I was just so angry that some human was telling me what to do.” He kisses Aziraphale. “I mean the doctor. Not you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” Aziraphale says. “And you don’t have to... I know I go overboard. You don’t have to be like me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t go overboard, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful.” Crowley kisses him hard. “I love watching you enjoy food.” He presses their foreheads together. “We’re still learning to be...human. It’s hard.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very hard. Much harder than I ever thought. It’s a wonder humans ever do Good.” Aziraphale softens into him, his cheek on Crowley’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley kisses Aziraphale gently. He tastes like chocolate. “I ate some stew. It was good.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Aziraphale says. He kisses him back, and tangles his fingers in Crowley’s hair. “I think this may be among the worst fights we’ve ever had. But we came through it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tempers fly so high when you’re human.” He sighs and squeezes Aziraphale tightly. “I adore you. I always will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I, you. Of course. And I don’t regret a thing.” He rubs Crowley’s back. “Do you want to watch some telly? Or a nap?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley hums and slides a hand down to squeeze at Aziraphale’s arse. “No. Something else.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s hips twitch involuntarily, and a grin breaks out on his face. “Oh, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
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